by Glen Martin Fitch
"Hmmm! What is this?"
Before I heard or saw
I caught the subtle scent
you wore that day.
I noticed it
the night I said, "Please stay."
You stayed.
Each day
you filled my heart with awe.
I've heard the sense of smell
is quickly bored.
But sometimes,
with the best,
a fragrance floats through time
as well as space,
like music notes,
first fruit,
then flower,
wood
to make a chord.
Now you are just a tale
I tell about myself
to those
who never noticed you.
I keep your unwashed sweaters
to renew what pictures lack,
when I'm in doubt.
I'm told
I ought to strive
to ease this ache.
Instead
I seek to linger in your wake.
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ABOUT THE POET ~
Glen Fitch is a 16th Century poet lost in the 21st Century. Born near Niagara Falls, educated in the Catskills, thirty years on the Monterey Bay he now lives in Palm Springs. Retail not academics has paid the bills. Someday he will finish Spenser's "The Fairie Queene."
Last updated August 23, 2011